


Close Encounters of the Klance Kind

by Avadenz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And that was year ago, Canon? what Canon, Fluff, I stopped watching voltron after season five, I'll add more tags as we go, I'm so sorry, M/M, Quarantine, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, Who Knows?, You've been warned, also I like writing domestic fluff aparently, depends if people actually like this tire fire, first fic, might get some smut, so I'm just going off of memory and whatever makes me happy, so prepare your self for much ado about nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23715043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avadenz/pseuds/Avadenz
Summary: Quarantine hits Team Voltron like a well aimed brick to the head.  Watch the descent into madness with Keith and Lance as they try to survive the 20's plague and... each other. Back Street's back, alright!
Relationships: Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Matt Holt/Shiro
Kudos: 5





	Close Encounters of the Klance Kind

**Author's Note:**

> So, let it be known, I'm going to play with canon, and haven't watched past season 5 because I didn't want to see my boys done dirty, and in my mind anything past that is just widely accepted fan theory. Let me live in denial. I'm doing this for me. For fun. So like, they might be OOC, sorry. Special thanks to my little troupe of proofreaders and my family who has had to listen to me reread this mess at least five times. They love me more than they should. This is going to be a quarantine fic, which means that this is kind of a way for me to cope with the isolation. It's incredibly self indulgent. Also I don't really write fanfiction, until now? Thank you for bearing with me. I don't know what to title this, so the name is pending, feel free to suggest some ideas in the comments. I also suck at formatting things correctly, woops.

It starts like this:

When the Back street boys family reunion tour breaks out, as Lance insists on calling it, college is in full swing. Not that he would really know, he was taking a gap year. A very extended gap year. Regardless, college exams were in full swing, if you had the sort of professor who preferred to glob on three grade breaking projects instead of the typical midterm final setup. So Lance had been panicking, which meant that Hunk was at his wit's end trying to prepare for his own projects, which meant that Pidge refused to talk to Lance, which meant that Shiro had dumped Lance at Keith's place. 

Joy.

So, long story short, Lance had been unceremoniously dumped off at Keith's apartment for the time being while Pidge and Hunk hammered down on their Robotic's project, and said mess was knee deep in unfinished chemistry homework.

This left Keith in his current situation, nursing a beer he was too young to be drinking in his kitchen, right as the clock was chiming midnight. He was honestly surprised that seeing Lance in his apartment, draped dramatically over a chair, was beginning to feel like a familiar sight. Back when Keith had first graduated high school, he had been pretty much a loner. Shiro had been fighting for custody over him for actual years at that point, but he had finally hit an age where that didn't matter. At the time, college was the farthest thing from his mind, easily forgotten behind the euphoria of being out of the system. Now he had less time to himself than what he would like. Not like Shiro actually cared. He's the one who threw all these people at him after all, and he'd probably be over the moon to know he was beginning to feel a little okay with the whole situation. A particularly loud whine from in front of the counter struck Keith out of his reverie.

"I've rewritten and rewritten this problem like, 50 times, and it's still not making a lick of sense! What the fuuuuuck?"  
Keith glanced over the paper clutched forcefully in Lance's hands, squinting his eyes as he tried to parse the egregious handwriting.   
"Dude, I think it's just a conversion error."  
The brunette's pupils widened dramatically as he yanked the paper back. His eyes scrambled across the page before he clenched a hand in his hair and flopped backwards over the back of the couch.  
"Fuck you! Stop being right for once, it's actually getting annoying."  
"Well stop making stupid mistakes and maybe we'll see." Keith replied easily, rolling his eyes and downing the last of his drink.   
He leaned up from the counter and made his way around to the bin, nestled sloppily between the fridge and the stove.  
"Why are you so smart anyways? Aren't you suppose to be a drop out or sumthin?"   
Lance said it casually, the words mindlessly coming out from behind the pencil pursed between his lips, but Keith still froze for a moment. Throwing the bottle away a lot harsher than he probably should have, he tried to curb his annoyance. He failed.  
"Says the guy who's barely passing introductory chemistry? What give's you the right to ask?"  
"Woah woah woah. Woah. I didn't mean it like that. I swear, I was just curious."  
Keith glanced across the room to see Lance's almost sheepish face. He scowled.  
"Why do you even wanna know?" he sighed, feeling the tension rush out of him like popping an old balloon.   
Lance was quiet as Keith made his way back to the fridge.  
"I just don't get it? Shiro speaks so highly of you, said you were amazing at science, at math, the top of your class. And then you just drop out?"   
He could feel Lance's eyebrow quirk up at him from across the room. Considering he barely knew the guy, it was a little creepy. 

Victoriously clutching a beer in both hands, Keith stumbled back and slammed the fridge with his foot.   
"It's not like I get you much either." he huffed.   
He, not at all spitefully, flopped onto the other side of the couch to the sound of flying papers and Lance's indignant squealing. Keith wordlessly extended a beer out in offering, which Lance took after shooting him a suspicious glare.

"You're gunna get water on my work! Watch it!"   
"How? These just came from the fridge."  
"I dunno, through condesentchion or something, I wouldn't put it past you."   
Lance's hand gestured frantically as he talked, as his other hand flitted through the pages in his notes.  
"You mean condensation? That's like, middle school science."  
"Uuuuuuuuuugh, if your not goin to help me, shuddup. I don't have time for this!" His hand's flew up to pull down on his cheeks, giving him a rather ghoulish expression. "I already had to get an extension on this stuff cause we had another scare with my brother. Why can't he just stay out of trouble for once."   
Despite the whine in his voice, Keith could hear an edge of seriousness creeping in.  
"You have a brother?"  
Lance whipped his head up. "Uh, yeah. I have like three. And a sister. But the brother in question is my little brother Markos."  
"Oh."  
"Yeah, he's a little shit, but I love him. He was my tiny sidekick in crime for the longest time you know. But don't let him hear you call him sidekick. He made me swear to refer to him as partner, but little does he know I crossed my fingers."   
A mischievous smirk fell on Lance's features, but he couldn't help but notice it didn't quite meet his eyes. He mentally scolded himself. Lance was an airhead, he didn't need to read that much into it. Lance glanced over down at his work again, his grin falling.   
"Lately Mama keeps calling me cause _he_ keeps getting into fights and she doesn't know what to do. Like I thought I was gunna make her go grey, but that boy is after my trouble-making crown." Lance grimaced. "It's just so dumb. He's got like the worst health problems in the family, and my grandparents live with us. You shoulda seen him as a baby, always getting sick. So last week he got a concussion from the school bully. He forgot who my parents were for hot second."  
"Shit Lance."  
The look on his face must have startled Lance cause he quickly followed up with "It's all good now. It just scared everyone pretty badly. She kept yelling at him in the background..." Lance shook his head "Aye ya aye. I bet he'll pretend to forget again and get a wooden spoon for his trouble, if I know my brother."  
And the trademark Lance grin was back in full force. He honestly thought it must hurt his face sometimes to smile like that. Were lips suppose to stretch that much?  
"Aaaaanyways, you, chemistry, now, chop chop." Lance said, clapping his hands together.  
Keith hoisted himself up and muttered, "Fine, your damn lucky I've taken pity on you though."   
His words fell on deaf ears. Lance was back to chewing up the end of his pencil, mind lost on a new set of problems.

Almost an hour passed, between Keith vaguely double-checking Lance's work and critiquing his inability to do basic mental math.  
"How long have we even been doing this, it feels like forever." complained Lance, although the finished work piled was beginning to slowly overtake the unfinished work in size.  
Keith kind of hummed underneath his breath, blinking himself out of the rhythm he had found. He set down the last paper Lance had hand him and cocked his head to the side, thinking.   
"Hm, maybe like an hour? I think we're making pretty good time."  
"Uuuugh no, I still have bunch of little quizzes to make up in the module."   
Keith watched with mild interest as lance dropped his head into his text book. That was probably going to leave a mark. Maybe he should subtly take a picture for blackmail material later.  
"When is all this even due? I thought you said you got an extension."  
"Well, what time is it?" came Lance's muffled reply, and even with him face first in his textbook the sarcastic chipperness in his voice was obvious.  
Keith glanced over at the stove, the LED lights blearily blinking 1:32.  
"It's like one thirt- oh shit that clock is like a half hour fast, so it's like one a.m. in the morning." Lance groaned aggressively as he lifted his head, the pencil sticking to his forehead nicely punctuating the mood as gravity gently pulled it back to academic hell.  
"I'd say we have around, mmmm twenty three hours."   
Lance held his head in his hands. His brow looked like it was trying to furrow so far inward, it would puncture his brain and put him out of his misery.  
"I think you mean you, you have twenty three hours, or twenty two. I might be like a half hour slow, I don't remember."  
Keith began to roust his sleeping legs in an effort to get ready for bed, but ended up flailing back down as Lance hurled himself towards him.   
"Nononono Keith you gotta help me man. Like don't make me beg. Please."   
Keith made the mistake of looking down. Lance was well known for his heart melting puppy dog eyes, but alas, Keith had no way of knowing.  
"Get off of me" Keith exclaimed, accentuating it with a rough shoving motion right in the kisser, but the damage had already been done.

There was a pregnant pause.

"Your going to owe me big time for this. I don't even know why I'm helping you, I have work tomorrow. Like actual responsibilities. Aaaaaurgh."   
Keith turned back at Lance, a pout tugging at the end of an exhausted frown, but he couldn't exactly stay cross.   
"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou."   
Lance threw himself off him and grabbed his pencil. Keith grabbed at the back of his jacket, effectively choking anything else Lance might say.  
"I'll help you on two conditions." Keith gave the fistful of material in his hands a little tug to cut off any petulant noises, "First of all, I'm only helping with that stack of papers, your on your own for the modules."   
A "Well, no shit." still managed to escape Keith's choke-hold, much to his chagrin.   
"Second, you owe me a huge favor. Whatever I need, no questions asked, sometime in the future."   
Lance opened his mouth, his eyes plainly conveying his miffed feelings on the matter, but before he could speak Keith cut in.   
"Do you want my help or not. Keep in mind your only here because my brother needed somewhere to put you." Lance's mouth shut with a click.  
"Fine, deal."  
If Keith's answering grin bordered on snarky, Lance didn't comment. He instead grabbed his pencil, and wrote down the numbers displayed on his calculator.   
Turning the paper around towards Keith and shoving it his way, he gritted out through bared teeth, "Thank you."   
Keith practically preened. Yes, sometimes he could be a little shit, but Shiro never said he had to play nice with his friends. Shiro only made him promise to tolerate them. 

Eventually the silence became too stagnant even for Keith, leading his mind to wonder.

"Why did you even take chemistry? You obviously hate it, and what, your major is aviation? I doubt it's required."   
Lance glanced up to look at him. If regret and disdain had a baby, Keith liked to think it would look a little like Lance at the moment.   
"Pidge said it was easy!"  
"And you believed her....despite knowing what you know"   
"It was forever ago, back when I was taking that class they make college fledglings take? The one for setting up your schedule. I needed a science class."   
His defensive rebuttal seemed to bring back some energy to him, fending off his previously lethargic posture.   
"Plus, Hunk said she was a sweet kid????"   
"Hunk would called a bag a rabid ferrets cute if it helped him with his work."   
At least that was the impression he got. He wouldn't be surprised if the man adopted a few angry chihuahuas. He just gave off that kind of vibe. He voiced as much.  
Lance grimaced.   
"Case in point."

"Speaking of chihuahuas actually, boy do I have a story for you."   
Keith circled another error lightly with pencil and raised his brows at him.   
"I can work and talk I'll have you know. I'm like, the world's best multitasker. It comes with having a huge family. You gotta be able to do like fifty things at once just to survive in the bitter lands known as the McClain kitchen. "   
They were going to be doing this all night at this rate.  
"I don't doubt it." Keith passed back Lance's work, just to see look on his face crash and burn in the sea of lightly marked circles.  
"Alright, I get it, but like just this one thing. I promise you won't regret it. If I get bored I won't be able to focus anyways." 

Keith finally relented. Lance on the other hand, practically lit up like a Christmas tree. It was strange for Keith, in this vague morning limbo he seemed to find himself in, to be by someone who so clearly wore his heart on his sleeve. He had heard from both Shiro and Hunk that Lance was... a lot. But they had both said it with a sort of fondness he couldn't place. Lance used his hands to almost paint the air when he talked. Did he do this for his little sibling, Markos was it? He found that he hadn't reviewed a single problem when Lance set aside another page for him to check. And by the questioning look on Lance's face, it seems he wasn't the only one who noticed.

A hand in front of his eyes soon cut off Keith's view.   
"HelloOooo. Earth to Keith? Like I know my story telling is enrapturing but I haven't even gotten to the good part yet."   
Keith gently pushed down Lance's hand, trying the mask how long it had taken him to even know it was there.  
"Sorry, I zoned for a minute there."  
"If your really that tired, you don't actually have to stay up with me. You can kick me out."   
Lance had a hand behind his head and was laughing lightly. If anyone seemed tired it was Lance. Keith shook his head.  
"Your fine! I'm just not used to people is all. Plus, I'm not sending you home at two o-clock in the morning Lance."   
Keith hoped he pulled a face which conveyed how stupid an idea he thought that was. Suddenly feeling self conscious, he back tracked.   
"I mean, not that I'm keeping you here but like, it's even raining."   
That seemed to stun Lance.   
"It's raining?" His voice was incredulous. "Shit, I didn't even notice."   
Keith facepalmed. How did he even function, being so unaware of his surroundings?  
"Anyways, as you were saying?"  
"Okay, so basically , there's this really annoying trio of chihuahua mixes next door right? And of course Hunk's bedroom is right next to the yard where they hang right? So one night, Hunk just had enough. And I assume you know Hunk."   
Lance glanced over at Keith inquisitively and Keith quickly nodded.   
"Hunk's like a teddy bear incarnate. He once hit a fly in the air and apologized to it when it hit the ground."   
Somehow he wasn't surprised.   
"So, mind you I'm sleeping on the floor next to his bed, in the little pull out, when he hurls his bed sheets off, grumbling like a mama grizzly with endangered cubs."   
At this point Lance had gotten up and was parading around in the cramped space of his living room, chest puffed out and hobbling.   
"Obviously, having big foot stomp next to my face woke me up like a bee sting to a dog's nose, and I was unashamedly cuddling my blanket like a damsel in distress. Don't give me that look, you would be too, trust me. So he throws open the window, and the sound of those fucking dogs reverberates through the house. It's like a low level earthquake, and all of a sudden everything that's happening all make sense to my bleary mind. But it's too late. I know what's going to happen and I can do nothing to stop it. I can only watch on in horror."  
Lance took a deep, as if preparing himself.  
"So Hunk reaches down, and in a feat of super human strength I think no man will ever have the privileged horror of ever seeing again, grip's his dad's new barbecue. You know, _just_ the one he had been bragging about using for the big neighborhood BBQ... tomorrow. Right, so he grabs it, lifts this thing clear above his head, propane tanks and all the mad fucking lad, and chucks it into the yard, very effectively shutting up the oversized rats. The resounding thud fucking echos like the fall out from a nuclear bomb, and like, everything is deadly silent. I can see from the moonlight that Hunk is coming back to his senses, and his face is absolutely pallid. It looks like he's going to be sick. And then every single light in the neighborhood turns on at exactly the same time. Like you couldn't have planned it better. It lit up the whole street like a spotlight and before I can even think hunk is leaping over me like the nimble, majestic warthog he is and hiding in his sheets."   
Lance is snorting, as he sits back down. "Now you know why I call him Hulking Hunk."   
By the end of it, Keith is wheezing for air, a pure giggle choked in his throat.   
"See I told you it was worth it. Like I wish i had taken of picture of his dad's face man. C'mon, let's actually get this done." So maybe Lance could be funny sometimes, so sue him. He stole a glance out the glass balcony doors and saw the storm still pouring down around him. It didn't change the fact that he was really going to regret it tomorrow morning when he had to go to work. Somehow though, he thought, settling back into the lumpy sofa, he couldn't really bring himself to mind it now.

* * *

"Your not actually planning on heading back right now, are you. It's coming down pretty bad." 

They had just finished the last of the work, though how legible it was with their thinning patience was left up to debate. The stove clock blinked 4:04 mockingly in Keith's direction. Lance seemed conflicted, with several odd faces kind of cycling through his features until a sudden bought of thunder startled him. Ultimately a look of resignation reigned supreme and he settled on an almost reluctant thank you. 

"You can take the couch and I'll bring in a blanket or something for you in a sec." 

Picking up the now empty bottles, Keith walked off, leaving Lance to grimace at the unseemly couch. Keith's living room consisted of a raggedy love seat, an antiquated couch which had been through at least one world war, and a coffee table which had really seen better days. The room could of been described as barren at one point, if it weren't for the ungodly amounts of clutter filling up every other available orifice of the poor space. Teetering shelves were stacked on termite bitten bookshelves, filled to the brink with far more than just books. Some piles almost hit the ceiling, and cobwebs hung between the walls and mountains of things. Only one shelf seemed to stick out from the mounds, with a carefully arranged collection of Gundam figures and jet plane models laying among a back drop of comics. Lance liked that shelf, not that he'd ever admit that out loud. Keith was nuts, and he was not going to encourage his... tendencies.

The first thing Lance had thought during his first visit to the Kogane residence was that he could die and they'd never find the body. Voicing that out loud did not give off the best first impression, but the subsequent spitting match between the two of them had brought PIdge to tears with how hard she was laughing. Pidge voicing her agreement had essential taken all the wind out of Keith's sails, and he hadn't said another word to him for the rest of the visit.

Shiro later confessed that he had had to bribe him into letting them come back, with that nervous laugh that never really hid the memory from the rampant imagination

Now he was kind of used to the "Keith has a minor hoarding problem, and Shiro is in denial" situation here, and he was over it. Kind of. Okay, so he comes from a _very large family_ , and even his mother, despite how sloppy she is, would have an aneurysm. He just hoped that there wasn't anything alive in that mess. Visions of being sucked into the writhing void like a bad B Horror movie sent a shiver down his spine, though were quickly dismissed by Keith struggling back into the room with a large quilted comforter dragging under one arm and a limp pillow under the other. He looked a little like the Pillsbury dough boy.

While away, Keith had dressed himself down from his typical T-shirt and ripped jeans into something more resembling pj's, though Lance used the word loosely. Instead he was now wearing a pair of threadbare shorts, which looked to have once been a full pair of sweatpants by the copious amounts of fraying at the hems, and a slightly stretched out tank top, proudly displaying the faded logo of some edgy band. His hair was now swept to one side, roughly tied up by a bright red thick hairband, as opposed to some sort of hair tie. Looking at him gave Lance a funny feeling in his throat, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Suddenly realizing that Keith had been talking, he blinked a couple times.

"What was that? Sorry, I must be more tired than I thought. Hahahaha...."

Lance scratched the back of his neck to try to bring himself to the present. Keith shrugged, a little sheepish grin poking at his face.

"I brought a blanket for you."

Said blanket slipped a little closer to the floor and Lance's eyes followed it.

"I know it's not exactly, um, manly or whatever, but it's what I had."

The blanket began to slowly lose altitude, despite Keith's best effort to keep it afloat.

"Oh shoot."

Lance ducked forward on instinct, grabbing at the comforter before it hit the ground. He looked up, to find him face to face with the other boy.

"Oh no, it's fine." Feeling his face go a lot warmer than it should have, he nabbed the pillow as he sort of flung himself back in an awkward sort of motion. "I- uh, thanks."

This time when Lance smiled, it was a little awkward, but the returning grin interrupted only by a yawn made him feel a little bit better. Keith rubbed at one of his eyes with the base of his palm, the motion clumsy.

"I'll wake ya when I leave for work." His eyes scanned his apartment. "You know where glasses are if you get thirsty, and you know where the bathroom is. I'll, uh, I guess I'll wake you when I leave for work. So you can work on your modules?"

"Yeah, that, er, works for me." His hand found his way to his nape again.

_Awkward._

Keith either didn't notice the atmosphere, or chose to ignore it.

Looking down at his hand, Keith muttered out "And, uh, hey Lance.... next time, just get a ride here before you drive everyone crazy. It'll save hunk from going grey early."

Swiftly, he turned around and started to make way down the hall, but froze midstep, seeming to remember himself.

Turning his head back, he threw a "Lock the door when you leave!" over his shoulder and disappeared into the room across to the bathroom.

The sound of way to many locks clicking closed left lance alone, still standing blundering in front of the hall.

"Well, night to you too, I guess." Lance said under his breath. What even was that. What was he even doing. Jeez. 

Bundling the oversized comforter and pillow in his arms clasped in front of himself, he doddered his way to the couch. Making a little nest for himself to keep out the chill, he settled into the offending piece of furniture. Outside, the streetlight illuminating the alleyway buzzed and flickered once. A car passed by. Lance turned over. His pants bunched uncomfortable around his junk. He offhandedly wished he had asked for a pair of sweats. Lance turned over. A spring dug into his side. The natural scent of old lady radiated from the couch. Feeling claustrophobic from having his face mushed into the wall of the couch, he turned over yet again. He was beginning to feel more like a rotisserie chicken than a tired college student. Absentmindedly, he ran his hands over the quilt. The florescent glare from outside seemed to bring to light the rough stitches, and it vaguely reminded him of his mother's small little projects. A stitched up stuffed animal, covered in stains and heart shaped patches. A well loved blanket, losing opacity around the edges from fingers rubbing pathways through the material. On the thought of well loved, the blanket carried a light smokey scent with it, and a dark hair was on it. The texture was rougher than it once was, but he didn't find it uncomfortable, and he even sunk a little more into it's warmth. It was then his mind resurfaced the image of Keith's exposed collarbone, peaking out from under his old tank top, hair tickling his shoulder blades. Lance sat up and grabbed his laptop, sobering up from being tired almost instantly. Nope. He wasn't even going to contemplate that. The infernal buzzing from the broken streetlight seemed to mock him.

It was going to be a very long night.

As his laptop booted back up, the light made his eyes water. He figured he could sleep after finishing his modules. By that point he'd be so brain dead it wouldn't matter if he was on the world's most uncomfortable couch, right? He might as well be outside in the rain for all that he would care. The sky seemed to thunder in agreement. 19 quiz notifications sat in his college email, and he clicked on the first one, ignoring a few other random school notifications. 30 questions. It would be fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. In a last effort ditch to procrastinate, he looked over at the messied coffee table, where his gaze landed on a mostly blank piece of scratch paper. He picked up a pen, and scribbled out what was a hopefully legible message. It read, "Don't wake me, I did the modules. I swear. For the love of god let me sleep." He scratched over every word a few times to make it a little more noticeable. Laying the note over the arm of the couch, he tucked the pillow under his back and sat up a bit. Time to actually get something done for once.

**Author's Note:**

> And then it all went to shit.
> 
> Honestly, if you have experiences with this whole situation you would like to share, feel free to rant/talk about it in the comments. ~Might end up in the fic.~ A lot of this is actually based around people in my life and things that have happened to me or family, cause again, this is super self indulgent. I don't know how this will end, cause no one knows what quarantine will be like, how long it's going to be, that kind of thing. If you wanna join my personal discord to share ideas, just ask and we'll talk. I sincerely doubt this is going to gain a lot of traction, so the more the merrier. Fuck it.
> 
> Fun facts: I didn't mean to actually have Lance tell a funny story, but then I accidentally wrote one? And then I kind of liked it, since it gave me second hand revenge at the dogs who used to wreck my nights back in my childhood house.


End file.
